Pillowcase Dresses: Literacy in a New Light

Your donations and a sample pillowcase dress

Tuesday we set out for our first Pillowcase Dress training with the men and women of Pawel Lalem, a village deep in the bush about 86 km (53 miles or so) north-ish of Gulu.  With supplies (left) in tow, we bounced and tilted over one lane roads that felt more like a moto-cross course than a road. We met huge bus after bus swaying perilously leaving behind it a suffocating, blinding dust cloud.   Comings and going along the stretch of "highway" resemble the game of chicken, with each vehicle jockeying for the center and testing the others' courage or stupidity.  The biggest wins, hurtling down the middle while the other, be it truck, Boda, bicycle or human gets the hell out of the way by pulling into the ditch - often leaving only a few inches between vehicles.  It's heart stopping. More than once we passed 18-whellers (gas trucks and buses) with three set of wheels off the ground.

Smothered in dust after an hour's drive (remember this is only 25 miles one way), we arrived at the school where  the Women's Pressure Group meets.  The name is just what it implies:  the women group together to discuss things the community needs and put pressure on same to be better parents, educate their children, keep girls in school,  etc.  It's effective.  Though the meeting is to start at 10:30, we arrive at 11:00 (by local standards this ranges from being early to on time) and there are only a handful of the 60 people expected at the meeting.   The playground is a riot of activity since the kids are at recess  which somehow lasts the entire time we are there (till 3:00).  We had a somewhat more sedate audience (above) for the duration while we met under a huge tree.  Thanks to your generous donations, I have come with 60 pillow cases, instructions translated into Acholi, needles, thread, pins, scissors and elastic.
 
 Another hour passed and we began to make noises about starting with thirty people: mostly women but with a few men. This is a culture where people wait till the last person arrives before starting.  But since the last person didn't arrive until we were ready to leave at 3:00, it wouldn't have paid to wait...  They finished their VSLA meeting, tables were brought out and we started by reading instructions, because this is a literacy training as much as anything else.   Words can't begin to define the process, because everything I said needed to be translated into Acholi.  And there are not Acholi words for some of the English, so when I hear how it is literally translated I'm wondering "who said that?"

We broke people up into smaller groups by village, so they can share materials and work together on their dresses after they leave.  They have to share things like printed instructions, thread and scissors, but are each given a needle, some pins, a pillowcase and elastic for the top of the dress.  We demonstrated the cutting process and they all took turns with the few pairs of scissors. I left them with one small pair, but they really wanted the big ones. After all the demonstration projects are through, the good fabric scissors will be given to the groups.

This is an enthusiastic lot and they caught on quickly to each step even though most have done nothing more than sew on a button, almost no-one has a needle at home and scissors are a luxury.   We cut elastic for everyone to take home, demonstrated how to insert it and left them with their supplies to work and install the elastic before next weeks lesson when they'll be shown how to use bias tape to line the armholes and make the straps.   Here they are cutting elastic and displaying their pillowcases - soon to be dresses. 

 Not only will this project move them forward with applying the literacy skills they've learned, it keeps the group active and offers them life skills.  Knowing how to sew allows them to repair their clothing and mosquito nets, adapt the skills for other projects and potentially extend this into an income generating activity.  They can buy the pillowcases in bulk at the market and adapt the other materials. 

When this project finishes, we'll use the skills learned to make reusable menstrual pads (RUMPS) to allow girls to stay in school. The drop out rate for girls reaching puberty is huge, reducing school attendance by almost 75% simply because they don't have supplies and usually do not have their own "changing rooms" or latrines at school.  This is a huge issue in the rural areas and especially the north where girls don't have the funds to buy pads - so they stay at home due to embarrassment.   It's not something we would even think about, but here it's a major deterrent to keeping girls in school.

So that's the update so far.  I know it's been a long time in coming.  I want to thank  the forward thinking teachers, parents and children at Welches Elementary School in Welches Oregon for their amazing generosity in sending 150 pillow cases all the way to Africa to help people they don't even know.  And to all of you who went to the trouble and expense of locating and sending needles, scissors, thread, trim and even the plastic bags to sort supplies - an equally heartfelt thank you.  Every piece of what you sent is being put to productive use and the enthusiasm of the LABE team in supporting the project and the villagers for embracing it is evidence that you are appreciated and making a difference.   These projects will continue until I leave and I believe will be self-sustaining in my absence, because we're teaching them SKILLS that make it possible to better life in ways that matter.  To us it's an old pillow-case or a book.  For the people in the village it's opportunity.  Thank you!

The Cosmic 2x4 and Options

Haven't had a day like this in a long time,  which is a good thing.  I was feeling the complacency of things having normalized - which they have.  The problem is that THIS is normal, I'd just not been to a meeting in a long time. December 5th in International Volunteer Day or some such and Peace Corps has decided we need to do something to show our presence.  Basically, I feel like we do that everyday...     evidently there is power in numbers, so I guess the idea is that all of the volunteer organization somehow come together and make a splash.

Since no one in Peace Corps Gulu has picked up the baton on this, I was asked to attend a committee meeting to see how Peace Corps can participate and so I did.  Those of you who know me, know that I HATE committees.  There's a reason I've been self-employed most of my adult life -  decision by committee has never been my choice of a good time  (The phrase, "doesn't play well with others" comes to mind) or a good way to work, so I have artfully avoided this.  Yet here I am doing it in Uganda - the poster child for decision by consensus.

OK, OK - really I did go with an open mind - but I anticipated waiting - even brought my Kindle to read - so there was waiting.....      After a few prompt Ugandans came in - we hurried up and waited for almost an hour when the chairperson deigned to come and started what dragged into a 3 hour meeting with 17 people needing to weigh in on every topic and decision.  They spent a full 45 minutes  discussing the difference between a Moderator for the session and the Speaker.  I left "early" meaning I did the unforgivable and didn't take tea.

Instead, I hoofed it down the mile-plus stretch of Kitgum Road, one of the dustiest, most rutted roads in Gulu and arrived back at LABE covered in dust, pissed, hungry and needing to take three boxes to the Post Office to be sent to Kampala  so Florence, who hosted me in Wakiso during training can start a community library in her garage.  I've been TOLD to show up at 2:00 to pay the conductor to get the boxes on the bus for going to Kampala the next morning at 7:00.  Again - waiting - this time an hour and a half, but as rivulets of sweat ran down my body mixing with the dusting of red dirt I'd just picked up, I was entertained by darling little boy who, fascinated by my Kindle and my white skin , kept me company.  When  the already late bus finally unloaded I was told take my boxes home and return at 6AM the next morning as they don't trust the security on the bus.  I pulled the "Muzungu card" and  begged fatigue, walking a mile with 40 pounds of books and frustration.  Basically I refused to leave and they said they would take the boxes as a "favor."

Ah yes - in short - this was just a normal experience.  as I said, things had just gotten into rather a routine and I'd been feeling pretty adaptive.  Well - the universe always has a 2X4 waiting to get your attention. So it was especially wonderful when a few days later friends arrived and we were treated to the sight of an o-l-d woman twirling her broom handle like a baton and marching outside the gate where the marching band was practicing. She was so proud and not the least self-conscious, probably having learned the skill with a similar band in her youth. Can you see that happening in the States?   The next day we watched a marathon of The Game of Thrones on their computer and were treated to a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner at the home of friends who work for USAID.

The universe of feelings here continues to flip with breakneck speed and while it's not as often, I still find myself switching from exhaustion and frustration to moments of pure joy and surprise running the full range of emotions in less than a minute.

Days like the one at the meeting and the Post Bus always serve as contrast. They remind me of what I have - and at the core of that is options - the very presence of which translates as opportunity - a hard to find commodity here for most Ugandans.   Last Thanksgiving we were just settling in at site and still in overwhelm at the enormity of what lay ahead.  We're at the tipping point now - past the halfway mark and most of us are already taking stock of what our time here has meant.  Believe it or not, we are now thinking "Oh my god, I've got less than a year left - how will I get everything done?"

Once again - it's a mixed bag of emotions.  May you all FEEL blessed and BE blessed in the season ahead.

Mid-service Reflections

Mid-service – the date we’ve been anticipating for well  over a year now, has come and gone.  Like a herd of turtles or a turd of hurdles, depending on which way you look at it – we all migrated toward Kampala – to the world of warm showers, softer beds, good food and friends and the sharing of tales.  

And tales there were, dramas here and there, awkward alliances, unraveling romances.  All the makings of a good mini-series, except that no one would believe it…  A few more of our number have departed for various reasons, ranging from debauchery and Boda Riding to poor site selection on the part of Peace Corps to Foreign Service Induction.    It was somewhat sobering to realize that of our original group of 46, only 34 remain in country.  Sorry Russ, I know you haven’t left for Foreign Service yet, but we are all grieving your departure in advance!

We were reminded of the rules again:  being caught on a Boda  (motor cycle taxi) is a one-way ticket home as is being found in Kampala without prior permission.    There’s a lot of pissin- and moanin’ about these policies - but they are essentially there for our protection and the pocket book of the taxpayer.  It’s one of the things you sign on for when you come to Peace Corps but, in theory we are adults and some of us haven’t had any externally imposed rules for a looooong time (that would be me).  It’s just that when all starry eyed coming in we minimized the “rules” part – thinking we are going to be enthralled by either the adventure or the act of “making a contribution,” we under-estimated how much these rules and a slew of others like them, would mess with daily life.  Then we got here and discovered that bursts of insight, moments of thinking you’re making a difference, the fleeting encounters that warm your heart – are but exclamation points to an otherwise difficult and often boring, plodding two years of planting seeds we will not be around to harvest.  We’ve adapted in ways that are as different as all of the personalities here.  Some of go inside and philosophize, some try to self-medicate out of the malaise only to rediscover it once the hangover wears off, we watch movies and TV series sucked from home, we all break the rules we think we can and some are simply never at site.  Like many other things, I suspect that the real excitement, lessons and insights over our adventures – both as a group and as individuals – will only blossom in retrospect.  While I don’t think I’ll be lounging in bed fondly reminiscing about rats in the kitchen, heart-stopping bus rides, squalid latrines or slogging through the mud, I’m sure – like the boat trip – I will long for days with enough time to read a book, be surprised by life and reflect. I think I will also miss the marching band tuning up everyday at 5 PM and certainly the camaraderie of friends that comes from shared miseries.   But I’m not gone YET, and until then I reserve – or savor the right -  to vent.

LABE programs are moving forward – in fact getting busy.  Books and puzzles and pillow-case dresses are getting to the field and my input is valued.  From other reports, I think that makes me one of the lucky ones.  Many remain frustrated by the act of slogging forward  at the pace of a sloth (even here there is much “slogging”).  We were reminded by a couple of ex-PCVs who presented at Mid-service that much of our impact is on the one-to-one personal level and while Congress may not think so or be able to measure it,  there is huge value in people learning to see the light in another that will contribute to change.  I’ll spare you my diatribe over misapplied aid money, but there was an interesting article recently in the New York Times, quoting the Ugandan author of the anti-homosexual legislation rumored to be passed by the and of the year.  His statement was essentially - if there were an action to force the west to stop sending Uganda money, he would like that.   Well – this legislation might be that action according to dictates that have come from Washington.  We live in interesting times.

On a lighter note, I have finally found eggs with a yellow-yolk!  Ah HA!  And you thought they just come that way.  Well they don’t in Uganda… they are whitish grey, green and they taste like dirt because that is what the chickens eat most of the time.  So if you actually FEED a chicken, you’ll get a yellow yolk and they taste better.  Admittedly, these yolks border on orange, giving rise to the concern of WHAT they are being fed and if this will later be revealed to be some deadly long-festering carcinogen.  But for now, I have am revelling in having eggs that taste like eggs.  Small pleasures…

And we were able to see the new James Bond flick, Skyfall, while in Kampala.  It was a kick and felt almost like being in the States.   My house was still in tact from being away without a house-sitter, though the geckos and crickets had taken over. Mama kitty, Yin, welcomed me with ear-piercing,  “Where the hell have YOU been – I’m here growing a batch of babies and you have abandoned me to catching rodents!”  She was intransigent when I reminded her of her job description being just that.   She has taken to climbing through the window as an act of revenge.  Add to that a new batch of white-ants creeping through vents at night – and may regret that I have not developed a taste for the beasts sautéed and for sale in large heaps by the road. I could just catch my own.

And speaking of windows, yesterday as friends arrived in route to Murcheson Falls, we were about to go the eat, when I heard a child’s voice through my bedroom window saying something about Muzungu.  This is much too close – because I happen to know there are no pint size Ugandans living in my compound.     Once robbed, twice shy - I went to investigate and discovered a girl about 6 tending an infant and a toddler.  Neither of the two Acholi speakers (self being one and I use the term Acholi speaker loosely) were fluent enough to figure out who they were or where they were from.   I reluctantly left, because while these miniature people couldn’t mean trouble, those that left them could.  On our way out we discovered the mothers picking greens from along the alley leading to my compound.   The 6 year old had been left to care for the babies – a routine event here.   Not uncommon to see a 6-year old with one baby strapped to her back and chasing around a stair-step collection of siblings while the mother hauls water, works in the field, etc. 

I know – if that's the lighter note, I should stop.   So I will.   Thanksgiving is coming up and I have much to give thanks for.  The new USAID folks in town have invited the PCVs to celebrate at their house (a seriously fine ex-pat house with fun things like a full kitchen with contraptions like an oven and really nice bathrooms and lovely furnishings, not to mention gracious hosts!  So onward to Thanksgiving and locating an unsuspecting turkey to Christmas (and Ethiopia)!  Then… 9 months and counting!

Puzzles, Bubbles and Books

Finally we (LABE) have been able to pull resources together and get out to the villages in the bush with all the wonderful puzzles and books you have so graciously sent.  When we (PCVs) first arrived we were warned that it might take a year to get projects off the ground.  "Naaah," one says.  "I'm organized, motivated - I can do better!"   Well here it is one year in...  Much ground work has been done, books cataloged, repaired where necessary, older programs finished, this round of audits mostly complete, new programs gearing up, etc.  Things always happen in fits and starts:  great momentum followed by whiplash stops.  The morning after spending the last two days making learning materials in preparation to going to the field again, I was informed: "fuel is finished."  So, it was back to the office, working on other stuff - creating data-bases for the new program focused on establishing early childhood learning centers - always with other on-going programs and workloads in the background.   As you read on, I want you to know how deeply appreciated your gifts of books, puzzles, supplies, toys and so many other things are.  Truly, your generosity is making a difference for these children and their parents who are learning with them.  Because of you, they will have opportunities and exposure to concepts and materials many other children will never see.   There are not enough ways to say thank you.

A friend of mine recently commented on my earlier mention of the difference in cognitive abilities between the children here and those in the US - wondering aloud   if there might be abilities of a different kind here - that have simply never been discovered or tapped and what makes the west think it has all the answers.  In thinking about this, there is NO doubt that folks living close to the land, using every instinct for survival, growing food, occupied with providing for the daily needs of large families are much more in tune with rhythms and wisdom(s) that are simply ignored/lost in more "developed" environments.  Every culture has its ancient wisdom that "progress" arrogantly pushes aside. There are forms of intelligence even in our own culture that will never appear on an IQ test.  I've said before, with every step forward in modern convenience there is a trade.  In these days of paradigm shift, I think we are more conscious that ever about those trades.  If you've ever read the book Mutant Message from Down Under, written as fact, but alternately believed to be fiction because the tribal practices are so foreign to westerners, all manner of questions come up.  But one doesn't have to venture far into the realm of Quantum Physics and neuroscience to make connections between science, spirituality and ancient wisdom.

So - no I don't mean to imply that the west has it figured out.   We’re all in a world of woe if that’s all there is.  But – if the goal is to learn to read and write and develop the kinds of cognitive skills that offer a different type of problem solving demanded by urban cultures toward which previously agrarian societies are gradually being pushed, then the west has some experience with that.   So, enter things like puzzles and books and games and movements that build those skills.  The educational system here is almost totally lacking in that realm so it’s wonderful to be able to introduce those things at a grass roots level, in the villages with children and adults who may never have the opportunity to attend a private school which might offer some of these things.   Even in the private sector, however, these teaching tools are largely absent.

Friday we loaded puzzles, books, markers, and myriad other supplies in The Daughter of Japan (our faithful Toyota truck) and headed to Home Learning Centers in the bush.  Dropping off supplies and a home made blackboard here and there, picking up  some teachers and Parent Educators, we arrived at Palenga Pre-School and were greeted with 35 or so preschoolers dressed in lilac uniforms.  Visitors are always welcomed with a song and this day was no different.      Later the drums came out and we got music and dance as well.  Since Muzungus are novelty and I had nothin’ in my bag of tricks but bubbles.  And it turns out, nothing could have been better – wild excitement, shrieking, jumping and bubble chasing ensued.  

After this great introduction, we wended our way through back roads and trails, the truck engulfed in towering grasses as we caught glimpses of tukuls (mud huts) tucked into neatly swept compounds and papaya groves approachable only by foot path.  Finally we arrived at Adak Home Learning Center and were ushered past a man hacking his way through an 8-foot tall termite mound, the dirt from which will be made to build bricks that will - in turn - be used to construct more huts and possibly a bigger learning center.   From the look of the underside of the thatched roof, this HLC seems fairly new and in this small dark space sit 30 or so children raging from about 3 - 6 years old.   After a few minutes and some introduction from Joy in Acholi, the kids were divided into small groups and given the puzzles to explore.  Because village children have never had the opportunity to work with puzzles we used very basic wooden puzzles we would give toddlers.  Some "got it" immediately, others were still struggling to match apples to apples, etc. and understand that if it didn't fit one way, you rotate it until it does.  One understands in a heartbeat, that what seems intuitive is really a learned skill that in "first world" cultures one learns so gradually through "play" that you don't realize how much is really taught.  The older group was really challenged by a 12 piece puzzle, but totally engaged.  
 

After we’d burned off a little energy, books handed out into small groups.  Again, these children have never held a book, so needed instruction on turning the book so the pictures were right side up.  They were stunningly well behaved - ooooing and aahing over the pictures until everyone had had a turn with every book.  

The next week we headed back to one of the villages we didn’t have time for last week.  A large group had gathered  under the Mango tree because unlike the previous folks, this village of Oduku has just cleared the land and is building a thatched shelter so classes can be held even in the rain.      

One of the things that really moved me about this center was almost sacred nature of the tukul where the learning materials are and will be kept.  Constructed of mud and thatch with a dirt floor, it was meticulous clean and with learning materials hung along the walls lined with lace curtains.  They took greater care with this center than their own homes.  You can see what they treasure and the reverence with which the greet the opportunity to learn.

Puzzles, home made Snakes and Ladders games, matching boards and books were all brought out to great excitement.  The women "fighting" over puzzle pieces was the most fun.  The kids had a hard time focusing on the puzzles until I got out of the picture.  The teacher explained "all they see is your color...not the puzzle."  I tried without success to load the video, so these pictures will have to do.

The project is just getting off the ground and we have lots of centers to visit.  After everyone gets an introduction to the puzzles and books, they will be divided up among the Early Childhood Centers and left for folks to use on a daily basis.  Know that you generosity,  time-energy-and funds for collecting and mailing these materials is truly appreciated and will be well cared for.   You are all part of this project!  Next: Pillow Case Dresses!